


Sweat and Gold Thread

by ImRobin



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-03
Updated: 2015-11-03
Packaged: 2018-04-29 17:15:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5136005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImRobin/pseuds/ImRobin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Beginning a courtship isn't easy; especially when your lover's halfway around the world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweat and Gold Thread

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bead](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bead/gifts).



> Dedicated to Miss Bead, who I have been thinking an awful lot about recently. 
> 
> I can relate to and admire her so much, and though I have already given her a gift, I'd like to give her a second one. :D
> 
> Vadi, in the Azerbaijani language, means 'valley', which I thought was appropriate. 
> 
> (Also, Billa is a bit on edge- her kid is, after all, tirelessly energetic and her husband is gone. Cut the poor girl some slack.)

Vadi remained stiff, but not completely immobile, as Bofur chatted joyfully at her side with the guests around her. Though the preparations for the day’s feast had been grueling, it was the real thing that caused her the most pain. The open window to her right sent a chill up her spine, reminding her of the sullen fact that her lover was not present.

The breeze, no matter how cruel it was, still provided her with some use- it kept her, boiling in her layers of silk and velvet, from slumping to the floor in a heap of sweat and gold thread.

Propping her bony arm up and on the sill, she gazed longingly out onto the shimmer of the lake slithering through the valley below them, hoping to catch a glimpse of golden hair reflecting against the deep grey of rock and brown of wood- a beacon.

“Glarin’ down at the lake won’t bring your boy back,” Bofur, shocking Vadi from her state of wishful thinking. With a sigh, she straightened out her spine woefully, her sad eyes still combing through the scenery below.

“I’d like to think it will,” she murmured meekly in retaliation, sending the man into a series of loud guffaws. Eternally silent and forever impossible to read, the dwarrowdam only shrugged softly and turned her attention back outside.

A soft hand, only after a handful of seconds, once again ripped Vadi from her hypnotic-like fixation on the geography outside. Her long black hair whipping in a curved arc towards her disrupter, she only found two heads of curly bronze hair, sitting across from her in an oak rocking chair.

Billa, the current Queen of the entire Khazad, was reclined tiredly against the pillowed seat, a small babe bouncing energetically in her lap; surely, this was one of her children, though with so many to keep track of Vadi hesitated to guess their name.

“It’s your first that’s the hardest,” the knowing noble proclaimed, eyes never trailing from her excitable child. _Even her Khuzdul is perfect_ , the stable-hand noted wearily, surprised by the Queen’s strange perfection when regarding—well, anything.

“First… first what?” Vida peeped, barely making herself heard over the royal toddler’s squeals, as she straightened a bit more to match the ruler’s usually perfect posture.

“First outing, my dear. Us wives, especially the wives of adventurers, have a bad habit of throwing ourselves into a tizzy the first time our husbands step out of Erebor for a bit of fresh air.”

Though Vadi barely regarded an economical, trade-related trip to Mirkwood as stepping out ‘for a bit of fresh air’, she nodded slowly and regarded the Queen’s regal, seemingly calm manner about the whole situation.

“With all due respect, my lady, Fili retold me parts of his- well, _your_ journey, along Middle Earth. And… And I _did_ hear some terrible rumor about spiders, poisonous mushrooms and lethal elves, all near Mirkwood’s end of the forest. And though Fili and I have _hardly_ started our courtship, I cannot _bear_ the thought of him trekking around with orcs, and especially…”

With a creak of her wooden rocking chair, Billa leaned over with ferocious purpose, and all but slapped her hand onto the young woman’s knee, sending a dry ‘clack’ bouncing around the room as livelily as the handsome baby boy in her lap.

Gulping, Vadi squeezed her eyes shut and folded her paws into her lap, attempting to withhold the need to anxiously play with her hair or simply begin to cry. The tiny Queen held fire in her eyes, clearly thinking back to the moments the dwarrowdam was recounting in obvious displeasure. Oh, Mahal, _curse_ her wicked tongue!

Her impossibly rough little hand, instead of curling into a fist or slapping her a second time, only gently caressed the knee that she had hit in a silent apology and curled back to cradle her child’s curly head. Vida, in relief, let out an impossibly obvious sigh.

“…I’m sorry, my dear. I simply hate it when friends use formalities. I have a name, you know.”

…and the hobbit’s gentle aura had returned, along with her regality and lovingness. As the rumors murmured, the noble truly was a firecracker.

“Anyhow, you see how we women get without our husbands? It’s horrible, truly… But it comforts me to think that my husband is just as restless without _me_ by _his_ side. I’m sure young Fili is thinking of you this very moment.”

Like a blessing in disguise, or faith in its purest form, the sound of horns caused the feasts’ attendees to jump up in a frenzied dash and rush towards the door. Even Billa’s child clapped his little hands knowingly, coaxing a fresh smile onto his mother’s face.

Looking up at Vadi for a final time, sapphire blue met beryl green; the Queen cocked her head in the direction of the door, making her orange-red curls bounce on her shoulders.

“Go and get him, then.”


End file.
